Jumping Ship
by expressionalism
Summary: As Kurt struggles to regain his lost voice, Sam goes out to sea.
1. Chapter 1

"I can't stay." Sam whispers into Kurt's ear just before dawn. Kurt doesn't say anything in reply. He should have been sleeping. But he never did on the nights Sam was home. His eyes spring open and he looks out the open window and into the fog that seemed to have overtaken the ocean overnight. The drawn curtains blew back a little into the bedroom due to the wind. Kurt blinks. Once. Twice.

Of course Sam can't stay. He never can, and he probably never will. It usually doesn't bother Kurt. As long as Sam came back, Kurt would always be okay.

(Actually, that's a lie. It scares Kurt. It scares him so much because there's always the possibility that Sam isn't coming back and that thought haunts him every night. He never sleeps much, regardless of whether or not Sam is there or not).

If Kurt squints, he can see the sun begin to rise far on the other end of the horizon. It looks as if it's raising itself out of the sea and Kurt's always thought of sunrise and sunset like that. Ever since he moved to the coast, anyway. He thinks the sun is a fire. A fire that is born out of the ocean every morning and doused every night.

(He didn't much care for the moon though. There was something much less.. magical about it).

Sam is looking down at him worriedly, waiting for a response. A response is the one thing that Kurt can't give. All he wants is for Sam to stay and there isn't anything in the world that he could say that could stop Sam from going. He can feel concerned green eyes looking down at the profile of his face and he'd give anything just to have those eyes around forever so he could drown in them.

"I know." Kurt replies.

(His eyes are closed).

_Kurt remembers the night he met Sam with perfect clarity. Maybe that's due to the fact that he dreams about it every night, he isn't sure. But he can still recall nearly every detail.___

_It was a Friday. Outside, it was a humid summer night. As usual, half the town was gathered in The Ivory. Either for the alcohol or for the air conditioning. Kurt sang a soft song on stage. Something about falling in love. It's the one thing he can never seem to remember.___

_(Even though he would give anything to remember. It was their song)___

_Noah was back in town. Kurt was expecting him back any moment. Noah had promised he would bring his girl around for Kurt to meet.___

_And true to his word, Noah did.___

_They slipped in silently. But Kurt saw them immediately. He always kept one eye on the door. he saw how Noah nodded at him proudly in a way that Kurt had thought he wasn't supposed to notice. ___

_His eyes slid from his friend to the two people standing side by side behind him. They looked remarkably alike; blonde hair and light eyes. ___

_Kurt knew who they were without having ever met them. Noah spoke of them so often it was as if Kurt had grown up with them as Noah had.___

_He knew Quinn. He knew how Noah was so taken with her. He knew how she loved the water and the outdoors period, despite how easily she burned.___

_He knew Sam. He knew how attached to Quinn he was. Kurt knew how Sam could sit on a beach with a guitar in his hands and watch the ocean for hours as he idly strummed.___

_(He knew them. Noah always told the best stories).___

_Kurt's eyes locked with Sam's then as Kurt sang about love and how it never truly leaves a person once it strikes.___

_(Thinking about it now, Kurt laughs). But that day, Kurt fell into a pool of green eyes. He still feels as if he's swimming in them._

He goes out to the dock on the edge of the port everyday. Always in the morning. It was usually so early that no one else was ever out on the dock except for him. Well, him and one other person. Quinn would usually be there as well. She would sit next to him on the bench and they would both be silent.

They weren't friends. Not by a long shot. But they had a silent understanding between them. It wasn't easy, falling in love with a sailor. Especially when you didn't know if they were ever going to come home or if the last time you saw them was exactly that; the last. Kurt was friends with Noah.

(And that in itself was odd. Never in a million years would Kurt have ever thought he would be friends with Noah Puckerman of all people).

But they were close. Surprisingly so. So close that Noah had first introduced the love of his life to Kurt. And that girl was none other than Quinn Fabray. And with Quinn came Sam, and everything went from there.

By everything, Kurt means that he and Sam fell in love and Sam came to see Kurt perform every night at the Ivory and Kurt would always stand up on the stage next to the baby grand piano with the spotlight shining softly down on him. And he would stare into Sam's eyes as he sang, as if he was the only person in the room. And Kurt would sing. He would let his voice drift throughout the lounge. Sometimes he thought his voice was so quiet, despite the microphone, that no one could hear him sing.

(And yet, after every song, there would be applause. Sometimes it would be so deafening that Kurt would feel overwhelmed).

But then, Kurt lost his voice and Sam went out to sea and he never stayed. Kurt misses everything about his life just a year ago. He misses the stage, he misses the baby grand piano. He misses the spotlight shining softly down on him. He misses singing. He misses the applause and the way he could never get enough of it.

But he misses Sam most of all.

"The forecast?" Quinn asks quietly, taking a seat next to him. Kurt closes his eyes for a moment and exhales slowly. The forecast. The forecast was the most important damn thing to him. He was always constantly checking it. He prayed for clear skies and no wind. Whenever a storm rolled in off the coast, he would worry for months.

A deep breath.

"It's clear." Kurt replies, his voice soft.

(Not that it was ever hard or strong these days anyway).

"For now, at least." he corrects himself, clearing his throat. From the corner of his eye, he can see Quinn nodding in understanding. It's quiet between them for quite some time and Kurt is left to his thoughts. He isn't quite sure what to think. The freshly risen sun beating down on his face as he looks out across the ocean, there isn't a single blemish in sight. Only the silent swish of the clear water as it gently moves.

"How long this time?" Quinn asks, and Kurt truly does pity her in that moment. Because Noah always leaves without telling her. He doesn't wake her. He's convinced it's better that way. Better for her. It only enrages Kurt because at least Sam has the decency to say goodbye and isn't ashamed of what he's doing.

(If anyone's ashamed, it's Kurt).

Kurt turns to look at her and the sadness in both of their eyes is unmistakeable, and there isn't a thing they can do about it. "Six months." Kurt answers softly, and his breath turns shaky and he feels like crying. Which isn't anything new. There's always that underlying sensation. The one where there appears to be a huge rock in your throat that you can never quite swallow and the subtle, yet completely blatant sense of panic.

It came to Kurt one April evening and never left to this very day.

Kurt refuses to think about it. Instead he lingers on the fact that a single kiss would have to last him for six months. He thinks of the absolute love in Sam's eyes as he gently kissed Kurt's lips.

And Kurt had kissed back. He kissed as if his very heart was about to beat right out of his chest and that Sam was the only thing, the only person that could save him.

(He kissed Sam as if he was dying).

He lets himself fall into the memory of that kiss and how it was so similar to all the other ones he and Sam had shared recently. It's only when Quinn shifts a little uncomfortably next to him does he start out of his reverie.

"Is there something wrong?" he asks, and he sounds a little startled. Which, again, isn't anything new. Not recently, anyway.

"No. Not really anyway. It's just almost eight." Quinn replies, sniffling a little bit and Kurt realizes that she's been crying. She has a habit of doing that. Grieving silently. He realizes just how much like the ocean she truly is; fierce in it's emotions, but all the noise it makes are influenced by outside forces. The ocean itself is always silent. When Noah leaves he takes all of her noise away from her.

"Quinn..." Kurt starts, but she shakes her head and clears her throat, clearly composing herself. Which was another thing she was good at (and Kurt excelled at it too, if he was being honest). She only shakes her head.

"I'm fine. I'm okay now. It's almost eight. I need to get to the lounge." she fixes him with a stare that definitely contradicts her statement, but she smiles. Kurt nods once in understanding. "But..." she lets herself trail off for a few moments before Kurt purses his lips. He knows what she's going to say. She says the same thing every time they share the bench and his response is always the same.

"Come with me?" she asks and Kurt opens his mouth to reply, to shoot her down, but she keeps talking. "Please? Rachel really misses you and we're all worried about you. We just want you to be happy." she says that last part kind of fast so she's left taking in air at the last part.

"I know. I miss Rachel too. Give her all my best." Kurt replies, rising from the bench, he gives Quinn a half-hearted smile as he passes and she does her best to return it.

It's something neither of them are quite good at. Then again, neither of them were actors.

_The first word Kurt ever said to Sam was "sorry". It's because he bumped into the blonde, of course. But the irony isn't lost on Kurt. _

_"It's okay." Sam had replied, cooly. He had leaned back against a bar stool, which tipped and nearly knocked Sam right over. There was a clamor as Sam fought to regain his composure and Kurt couldn't help but laugh at him._

_"Sorry." Sam muttered, righting the bar stool and fixing Kurt with a look that took his breath away.___

_"It's okay." Kurt had whispered._

He sits at the kitchen table alone, a mug of tea rests in front of him. It remains untouched and has long since grown cold. In his left hand is a spoon, which he's been using to stir the tea for easily twenty minutes. He's staring out at the ocean again, through the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony and just beyond it, the beach.

It's only when his hand begins to shake, and the spoon begins to clash with the cup does he remember he was supposed to be drinking tea. He looks down at the cup as if he can't remember how it got there. Sighing, he stands and dumps the cold beverage down the sink. The sunlight streams in through the windows and he just continues to stare for a few minutes.

It's the doorbell, ever the traitor, that snaps him out of it. The cup, still in his hand, clatters to the sink and while it isn't broken, Kurt's left disappointed that it didn't. He doesn't know what to think of that as he goes to answer the door. Taking a deep breath, he unlocks the door to come face to face with a very pregnant Rachel Berry.

"Rachel?" he asks, genuinely surprised to see her. She looks irritated, and that's definitely an understatement.

"Oh, you remember my name?" she asks, crossing her arms and fixing Kurt with an angry glance. He winces. There were very few people in the world that Kurt could bring himself to forget. Rachel Berry was certainly not one of them. She has every right to be mad, of course. Kurt hasn't seen or spoken to her in nearly three months. He couldnt bring himself to look at her, let alone hold a conversation with her. There was always the underlying feeling that he had somehow let her down.

(Which he did, in all honesty).

"Of course I remember your name. How could I forget?" the last part is more to himself, but Rachel hears it and actually rolls her eyes at him. Kurt does feel guilty. He should have made a better effort to keep Rachel in his life. Instead he had shut her out.

"Well, you certainly aren't acting like it." Rachel concludes before taking that final sigh that she always takes. It's then that Kurt realizes that she isn't mad at him any longer. She's finished chastising him. But she still has that tired look in her eyes that only makes Kurt feel worse.

"Are you okay? I know they left this morning." she says, leaning against the brick of the exterior wall of the porch. Kurt nods silently and takes a deep breath.

"Well, I've been better. But yes, I'll be fine." he replies, giving Rachel what he hopes is a steady look. Apparently it works, because she smiles at him.

"Great. Then, you're coming with me." Rachel says, perkily as she takes Kurt's hand into her own and leads him out onto the porch. Kurt gasps and for a moment, everything is back to the way it used to be.

"Rachel, I can't go out! I look like trash!" he protests, and he knows he does. Dishevelled hair, bags under his eyes. Not to mention he was wearing a tourist t-shirt and plain jeans. Not exactly how he liked to be seen in public. Once again, Rachel rolls her eyes, but this time, it isn't mean spirited, not in the least.

"Kurt Hummel, you look fine. Now _let's go_." Rachel urges him, tugging on his arm. Kurt can't bring himself to resist her cheeriness. It must have been the fact that she was truly and undeniably _Rachel_; someone no one could ever turn down or refuse.

He lets her lead him to her car and even gets into the passenger seat. "So, where to?" Kurt asks, and he can't help but feel a bit surreal at the whole experience. Mostly because he and Rachel are no longer friends. So her showing up on his doorsteps after months of isolation was enough to shock Kurt.

(He can't say he wasn't grateful. He did miss her. He did wish nothing but the best for her).

"The Ivory." Rachel mutters off-handedly as she starts the car. Kurt freezes and the smile (the first genuine smile since he could remember) melts off of his face. He hasn't been to The Ivory for over a year. He takes a deep breath and the panic sets in again.

"Rachel..." he starts, warningly but she holds up a finger, silencing him.

"You can't just avoid it forever. You are coming with me to The Ivory, and you are going to visit everyone. We _miss_ you, Kurt. You're _one of us_." Rachel says, and it almost sounds like she's pleading with him. Begging. It's a little weird to see on her, the girl who doesn't even have to lift a finger to get what she wants.

Rachel had a point though. He was a member of The Ivory family. He had been for as long as he could remember. Singing had been his passion and then... nothing.

(But it was something. It was something _huge_).

"Just for a couple hours." Kurt replies, non committally, and for Rachel, that's enough.

She grins at him before pulling out of the driveway. "Of course." she confirms, and they're on their way.

_Kurt had learned from Noah that they were new in town, here to stay.___

_(For now, at least).___

_It became painfully clear to both of them that Kurt was far more than politely interested in Sam, if all the questions he had asked about him had meant anything. ___

_"So... that means they're looking for work?" Kurt had asked. Noah shot him that knowing look.___

_"Yeah..." he had replied, cautiously as Kurt's face had broken out into a grin. "What are you planning?" Noah asked him, simply curious.___

_Kurt only smiled in reply.___

_(They were working at The Ivory by the end of the week)._

It's the first time he's set foot in the lounge since before he could remember. Rachel leads the way in, because she doesn't have anything to be afraid of. Kurt does, however. There's the past that always seems to haunt him and this is the place where the ghosts run the wildest. He takes one step in, hesitant.

It's dead, as usual. It's only noon after all. The place only comes alive until after the working hours of the day. Then it seems like the entire town gathers at The Ivory. All except for him, so it seems. It looks much the same as it did when he left it. The only difference is he isn't the person up on stage, testing the sound, testing the lights. Testing.

Mercedes Jones smiles as she speaks into the mic, only to discover that it doesn't work. Rachel strides into the center of the lounge and does a little spin before she turns to face Kurt once more.

"So? What do you think? Any nostalgia yet?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows and grinning at him. Kurt nods distractedly.

There wasn't a day that passed that he didn't get nostalgia. He didn't have to come here to figure that one out. All that being in The Ivory did was amplify those memories tenfold.

"Did you manage to drag him here, Rach?" a familiar voice asks from behind the bar and everyone's eyes snap over to Finn, who looks at his wife with hearts in his eyes before turning to grin at his step-brother. "Hey, Kurt."

Again, the guilt hits Kurt. He begins to wonder why he ever left before he remembers the real reason why he left. But still, the guilt is something he can't ignore. "Finn." he greets, trying not to let anything get to him.

"Yeah, I managed to get him here." Rachel replies to Finn's question. "It wasn't without a fight though. He was kicking and screaming and crying and I'm lucky to be alive."

Kurt's eyes flit over to Rachel and his jaw drops in mock offense. "Rachel!" he exclaims and she shoots him one of her winning grins.

It's then that it occurs to Kurt that he doesn't know how far along his best friend is. It's clear that she's pregnant, the bump in her midriff attests to that, but he has no idea how long it's been. He was aware of the fact that she was expecting before he locked her out of his life, he just didn't know the exact degree.

"How far along are you?" he asks and the voice sounds extremely out of place even to his own ears and he winces for a moment. Rachel doesn't seem to be phased in the slightest though.

'Seven months, to the day." she responds. She hangs her waist length coat up on the hook next to where Kurt's standing before she strides across the room to plant a kiss on Finn's lips. Finn has to lean down and Rachel still has to stand on her tiptoes and Kurt's always found them precious. He smiles from his place at the door before he takes his own coat off and hangs it on the hook next to Rachel's, just like the old days.

Striding into the lounge, he looks all around. It's the same place. High ceilings, worn hardwood floors. Everyone seems to be leaving him to his thoughts, even though he knows Santana is dying to come over and talk to him judging how she looks over at him every ten seconds from the table she's scrubbing vigorously in an attempt to clean it. Kurt leans against the stage and looks up at Mercedes, smiling slightly.

"So, you're the new lounge singer?" Kurt asks and she looks down at him, looking a little uncertain, yet proud and happy at the same time.

"Yeah, that'd be me." she responds, putting the mic down in the small folding table set up on the stage. "It's only a temporary position, though." she says, taking a seat on the edge of the stage next to him.

And okay, Kurt's officially confused. "Temporary?" he asks, crossing his arms and giving her a questioning look. She only shrugs in reply.

"When I first applied for the job I was told specifically that it was only a temporary position." Mercedes explains slowly and it dawns on Kurt that Rachel and Finn and everybody always expected him to come back. That was an expectation that Kurt himself didn't have for sure. But coming to The Ivory was turning out to be a wonderful experience.

"You don't say..." Kurt responds, distracted by his thoughts. She nods solemnly and gives him a worried look.

"Besides, I don't think anybody could ever truly replace you. Not me. Not anyone." she assures, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Have you come to retake your position?"

Kurt honestly hadn't given that any thought. Pursing his lips, he sighs and shakes his head. Mercedes immediately relaxes.

"Well, just give me a shout when you do. So I know when to start lookin' for another job." she explains and smiles at him. Kurt returns the gesture.

"I will. And who's to say I won't want a duet partner when I come back?"

The sentence scares Kurt, because he's talking with such confidence. Confidence he didn't know that he possessed. But he shakes it off for a moment when Mercedes gives him a genuine grin and for once, there isn't any panic.

_Their first kiss, by your average, cliché, romantic comedy standards, wasn't anything to write home about.___

_(That doesn't mean it didn't make Kurt's heart soar).___

_It had been late, after closing. Sam stood behind the bar, washing glasses. Kurt sat on the other side. He can't remember what had made him linger; clearly, it hadn't been important. They talked about silly things, like sailing out to sea and just staying there. Kurt watched Sam as he spoke about it. At the time, he had loved how bright his eyes were; full of hope and jaded beyond belief. ___

_(Now, Kurt knows how foolish that was).___

_He watched as Sam finished washing up as he dried his hands and talked almost animatedly about sails or something else equally inconsequential. They talked for a while. Sam had joined Kurt on a barstool next to him. The other employees filed out slowly until they were alone.___

_Then, their discussion turned to Kurt and how he always sang sad songs.___

_"You always look so sad, you know?" Sam commented, and Kurt shrugged. He didn't really have a response. Mostly because it had been true, but he still didn't know how to reply to a statement like that.___

_"I'm always looking at you." Kurt had said, because it had been the only thing he could think of. He stood. "It's getting late. I'll see you tomorrow." He started away, but his arms were captured by Sam's hand. Slowly, Kurt turned to look at him. Sam had a serious look in his eye and a small smile playing on his lips. It was a peculiar expression, but Kurt wasn't complaining.___

_There wasn't any hesitation. Sam had only pulled Kurt back, lips meeting lips.___

_And so, not breathing and not completely aware of reality, only Sam, Kurt thought that for once, he said something right._

"Hey there, stranger." Santana remarks, sauntering over to him with a cloth and spray bottle in her hands. Kurt gives her a small smile. He's sitting at the bar. Finn had offered him a drink, which he had vehemently denied.

(He's long since learned that alcohol did nothing to soothe him).

"Hey, yourself." he replies as she takes a seat next to him. It's quiet between them for a few moments before Santana clears her throat a fixes him with a glance that leaves him more than a little uncomfortable. He can sense how upset she is with him. And she has every right to be. They all should, but it doesn't make him feel better.

It doesn't change anything.

"Why did you do it do us?" she asks and it's a simple question but the panic that had subsided with his conversation with Mercedes rises from the confines of his stomach until it's in his throat again and it's an awful little it and he wishes he could kill it somehow.

"Because. You know why." is his only response and she gives a tiny, curt nod of understanding, but he knows she doesn't. "I'm sorry, if it means anything."

"It's fine. I just wish I knew. As far as I know you just dropped everything and left." Santana says, her voice nearly a whisper and her words sting, despite how softly they're uttered. He licks his top lip, which has grown dry.

"Some day." is his only explanation and she nods and this time Kurt knows she understands. It's silent between them once again and Kurt clears his throat, trying to change the subject. "So... how are things between you and Brittany?" he asks, eyebrows perked, lips ever so slightly turned up.

Santana gives him a little sad smile. "The same. Nothing's changed." she sounds a little sad.

(Kurt knows the feeling. All too well).

"It probably won't ever change." she mutters, the sad tone not leaving her voice and Kurt's heart breaks a little more at how tragic her situation is.

"Santana..." he starts, trying to console her, but her face turns back into a mask and she gives what looks like an uncaring shrug. But Kurt knows better.

"It's my own fault. I can't even look at her some days. I'm too damn scared." she's become all business and Kurt knows she's locked herself up and he can't help but feel her sorrow.

"Someday?" he asks, and she nods, giving a bitter little laugh that makes both of their skins crawl.

"Someday." she confirms, standing up. "Look, I've got to get back to work." she starts away and Kurt feels a little empty but then she turns around and gives him another smile, with only a tinge of angst that makes Kurt feel a little better. "I'm really glad you came to visit, Kurt. Later." with a small wave, she's off.

Kurt can't help that thinking that things are going to change. Maybe soon. Maybe someday. But change is always inevitable. With a deep breath, he looks up at the lights, ten feet above his head. It's then that he feels something resembling hope. Something resembling hope as he looks up at the light bulbs and lets those little green dots overtake his eyes.

(That night, Kurt goes home and while he's lying in bed, staring out at the sea in the middle of the night, he sings to himself).


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt's eyes flutter open around noon. At first, there's panic. Panic after the fact that he's woken up late; panic for the fact that he didn't go out at dawn to stare at the sea. Panic that Sam knows that he didn't go out and wait for him while the sun rose on the horizon.

(He knows that it's a silly panic. Sam doesn't know how Kurt spends the first two hours of his day out on the dock, waiting. But he still panics).

He sits up and looks out the window. There isn't any wind today, strangely enough. So the curtains stay in place. The sun is shining softly into the room. Kurt looks out past the beach and out into the sea and thinks about how much he hates it. It's taken everything from him. Sam, his voice, his friends. His life.

The panic fades away quickly and Kurt doesn't know how he feels about that. Instead of lingering on the feeling, he lays back down spread eagle on top of the bedsheets and stares up at the spinning ceiling fan for an undetermined amount of time. He really doesn't know or particularly care. Time is a subjective concept to Kurt, anyway. It all passes and it comes and goes as it pleases. He's never really paid it much attention.

It's the phone ringing in the kitchen that breaks him out of his reverie. He waits ten seconds to see if it'll stop ringing, because he isn't really up to answer the phone. Those ten seconds pass and it only continues to ring and ring. Sighing, Kurt gets up out of bed and mentally prepares himself for the person he knows is on the other end of the line; Rachel is the only person he knows that would be so stubborn as to stay on the line for this long.

He arrives in the kitchen, where the old telephone is mounted to the wall. And it is. Old, that is. It's mounted to the wall and has a cord attaching it to the cradle. Kurt just never gets around to replacing it, and besides, it's a little charming. Hesitating, his hand hovers over the headset. Taking a deep breath, he steels himself as he answers. "Hello?" he greets.

"About damn time." Rachel comments. No hello, but once again, that's just Rachel. "Who takes five minutes to answer the phone anyway?" she asks, teasing and Kurt rubs the tired out of his eyes, or tries to, anyway.

"Who stays on the phone for five minutes, waiting for someone to answer?" he replies, hating how groggy he sounds. Rachel giggles on the other line and Kurt waits for her laughter to die down. He doesn't join her, he's much too tired. He isn't sure what has him so fatigued, but there is definitely something different about today from any other typical day.

"Me, I guess." Rachel replies, snapping him out of his daze. "Anyway, I have a favor to ask..." Rachel trails off and Kurt opens his mouth to say 'no, you'll have to ask someone else' because he doesn't do anyone favors anymore. He can't even do himself a favor.

But his voice somehow can't form the words and his mind betrays him, instead. "What kind of favor?" he hears himself ask, hesitantly and then sighs at himself. He knew he was going to regret enabling Rachel. She never really got up to anything good. A giggle passes through the phone from the other end.

"Well it's just that Mercedes is sick and she can't make it tonig-" Rachel begins, but she doesn't get a chance to finish because he cuts her off and takes a deep breath.

"Rachel, I can't." is all he says and a silence develops between them. He can hear shuffling on the other end of the line and then whispering. "Hello?" he asks after a minute and he's greeted once again by Rachel.

"Hello, darling. Just wait a second for me please." she explains and Kurt can hear the phone being set down and he can hear Rachel talking to Finn. He can't hear what they're saying. But it's in hushed, harsh whispers, so it's probably about him.

He takes a moment to think about just what Rachel is asking. She's asking him to come back. To come back and sing. He hasn't sung in over a year. Well, unless you could count the small melody he sang to himself as he fell asleep the previous night. But still, the request was a dangerous one. He isn't sure if he's prepared for what it is that she wants. He doesn't know if he possesses what it is that she wants.

(If he's being honest, he's more afraid than anything. He doesn't want to let her down. He doesn't want to disappoint himself. He doesn't want to disgrace Sam. Which is silly, because Sam isn't even there. Sam is hardly ever there).

He's surprised when he's greeted once again, it isn't Rachel on the other end. It's Finn. "Kurt?" his voice is hesitant and for some reason that only makes Kurt even more anxious than he was before.

"Yes, Finn?" he says, knowing how unsure he sounds. A pause follows and Kurt realizes how frequent pauses are in his life. He wonders why and he can only come to the conclusion that everyone walks on eggshells around him. Which he isn't sure how he feels about because on the one hand, he doesn't want to talk to anyone about anything. However, he isn't as delicate as everyone makes him out to be. So the fact that everyone thinks that he's weak gets to him a little bit.

"Please?" Finn asks and Kurt silently curses him. Finn knows exactly how to get Kurt to do exactly what he wants. It's what brothers do. It's part of the reason why Kurt's been avoiding him for the past year.

(His nervousness and hesitation fades away for a moment when the scariest word falls out of his mouth and explodes against his brother's ear.)

"Okay."

"So you're coming back?" Quinn asks that afternoon from her spot on her beach blanket. Kurt turns his head from the ocean, the ocean with it's ever quiet movement, to look at her. They're seated on the beach behind Kurt's house. A place where Kurt hasn't dared to tread in an incredibly long time. So he isn't sure what's made him go out and sit there now. But he's done it, and he's glad he did.

But the strangest thing of all about the situation is the fact that Quinn is seated next to him. He called her moments after hanging up with Finn and Rachel and invited her over. He didn't know why. Maybe he wanted to talk to someone who understood, but he did very little talking with Quinn. The strangest thing about it all was the fact that she accepted his invitation. And now, there they were, seated on the beach.

Kurt stares at her for a few moments before giving her a tiny nod. "According to Finn and Rachel, yeah. I'm coming back. For tonight anyway." Kurt thinks about his answer, which simply popped out of his mouth. He didn't give it much thought before he said it, but he isn't sure if it's exactly true he's making his comeback performance tonight or not. His answer is accurate, yet vague. It's the best he can provide her with.

She nods in understanding anyway. Kurt turns back to the ocean and wonders how Sam is doing like he always does when she shuffles a little uncertainly next to him. He gives her a sideways, expectant glance and she smiles lightly. "I thought you lost your voice?" she asks and it's Kurt's turn to nod.

"Me too."

An hour passes. Quinn decides silently to herself that she's leaving. And Kurt understands because they don't have to speak to one another to know what the other is thinking.

"Are you coming tonight? Or are you working?" Kurt asks her as she starts away, and wonders why he cares so much if she's there or not. But he does. He cares. She turns to look at him and smiles. It's genuine and that's a change.

"It's my night off. But if you're performing..." she trails off and Kurt realizes he's holding his breath for whatever odd reason. Quinn blinks twice, then finishes her sentence. "I'll be there."

Kurt nods and swallows the lump in his throat. "I'll see you tonight, then."

She waves ever so slightly and leaves. Kurt knows she's coming back though. That's the thing. Everyone leaves but they come back. Everyone except the ones that count.

He sits in front of the vanity that has gone untouched for a very long time. It sits in the far corner of the bedroom, opposite the window. Kurt had lost his use for it long ago. In fact, it had been all but forgotten. But now he sits there, pondering.

He stares at his reflection in the mirror. He notices how pale he is. More so than usual. He gently places a hand on the side of his face because he doesn't feel real. He's going back. He's decided that. He's terrified, but the decision's been made. He isn't sure if he's made it himself or if fate has laid a hand and played a role.

Fate. Something he doesn't believe in. Not really, anyway. If fate does exist, it hasn't been too kind to him as of late.

He's going back. He's returning. Returning to the stage and to the lights and the baby grand piano. He's going to sing. Something he hasn't done in front of a crowd in over a year.

(He doesn't know what he'll sing; something soft. Familiar).

He's nervous and afraid. But also excited, ready. A part of him, no matter how small (and it's tiny. Minuscule. Kurt forgot it existed, really) had always longed to perform again.

His eyes drift from the mirror and to the old wooden frame encasing it. Long ago, so long ago, Kurt can't even remember exactly, Sam had etched a message into the dark frame. It wasn't deep. It only cut off the top layer of paint. Kurt stares at it now and can't decide if he loves it or hates it.

(He hates how it fills him with hope, longing. Confidence. Things that are temporary but make Kurt want them to stay. Just like how he wants Sam to stay. They both never do. Making temporary things permanent can only be done by magic).

Kurt purses his lips as he blinks once and looks back at his reflection. If he concentrates, he can hear Sam's voice in his head saying the words etched onto the mirror. Sighing, he stands from the small bench serving as the vanity's seat and leaves the room.  
_  
__("Knock 'em dead.")_

Kurt comes here often. He knows what's made him come here today and that's new to Kurt. Which reminds him about all of the things that are new and different this time around. Kurt notes how he isn't so stricken with sadness this time around as he takes a seat on the bench. It's a sunny day. Something Kurt is both thankful for as well as dubious of.

Kurt loves the sun, but he can't help but feel as if the weather is deceiving people into thinking that something happy is occurring.

(And maybe that's a selfish thought, because it isn't as if the weather bends to Kurt's every whim, although he almost wishes it did).

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad." he whispers, and knows it's inaudible. He hopes the gentle breeze will carry his words. "I just came to let you know that I'm performing tonight." A pause follows. Kurt knows exactly what he wants to say, he just can't bring himself to say it with a straight face.

"I haven't done it in a while. And I'm scared. But, you know... I think I'll get past that." Kurt inhales and exhales slowly. "You'll be listening. I know. But I just came to make sure. I'll be singing for you. Well, you guys and me... and Sam."

Kurt dares to share a tiny little smile, and it's kind of sad, but it's a start. "I wish Sam was here to see me sing. I'm singing a special song. One that means a lot to him. It means a lot to me, too. I'm sure you'd both love it."

Kurt stands up to leave, but before he does, he leaves a final remark. "I'm sorry I haven't come here in a few weeks." Kurt says, glancing across the street. "I just... couldn't."

(He leaves without another word. Across the street, a cemetery rests. Near the gates are two headstone that belong to two people very dear to Kurt).

_"Don't you dare-" Kurt begins with a nervous laugh trickling into his voice. He's about two seconds too late because Sam pulls him into the harbor water. "Sam!" Kurt exclaims as his head goes under and he nearly inhales seawater. He resurfaces and clings to Sam. They're both laughing and laughing and Kurt didn't know it was possible to laugh this long but apparently it is, because they're doing it.___

_After their laughter dies down, Kurt looks up at Sam. "Why me? Why now?" Kurt asks, his forehead pressed against Sam's. Hair is flattened against the top of both of their heads. Perhaps it's from the rain earlier. But Kurt doubts it. The correct response would be the fact that they're standing in the ocean, bobbing up and down._

_(Kurt can't swim, but he would never tell Sam that. Besides, the blonde is hanging onto him so tightly, drowning isn't an option)._

_"Why not you? Why not now?" Sam replies, raining a single kiss onto Kurt's lips._

_(A kiss that turns into two. Three. Countless)._

Kurt walks into The Ivory. He's gone home, changed into what he hopes is appropriate performance clothing; a simple black suit. He looks around, the place is as busy as ever the hour before the rush occurs. He feels as if he's at home, like he's back where he belongs. Yet he knows he isn't. This is only a one time thing. He left this world behind him when his father passed away and he was too overcome with grief to do anything.

"Kurt." Rachel greets him, striding across the lounge floor with a grin on her face. Once she arrives within hugging distance of him, she capitalizes on it.

"Rachel." Kurt returns, hoping his voice is warm and charming. Mostly because if he can't get the spirit and strength back behind his speaking voice, how will he do it with his singing?

"The sound and everything has been all checked and double checked. You're on at seven." she explains, fixing an imaginary rumple in his suit. He knows for a fact that it's imaginary because there's no way his suit would be rumpled anyway. Yet he still feels as if she can see it. He won't look at the place she's fixing because then maybe he'd be able to see it and that isn't something he wants to do because it would probably affect his confidence (or what's left of it).

"Thank you." Kurt says and starts away. Rachel grabs his hand and stops him. He turns to look at her, she has a grin on her face and it seems so joyous, so genuine, that Kurt himself smiles.

(And it feels good to smile, for once).

"Break a leg." she mutters with a nod, which Kurt returns.

_'Knock 'em dead'_ he hears Sam say in his head.

A moment before he goes on, he takes a deep breath. It's only a breath. It isn't shaky, it isn't panicky. It isn't nervous. It's only a calm deep breath. He closes his eyes and counts to three. Then, he steps out onto the stage and into the spotlight.

He looks out across the audience to see many stunned faces. No one knew that he was supposed to be performing tonight. So he imagines that it's a bit of a surprise for them. It's a bit of a surprise for Kurt himself. He blinks a few times, the lights are blinding him. He can't see.

(He knows he's lying, making up excuses for himself. The last tendrils of panic and hesitation simply refuse to let him go).

He closes his eyes and everything is silent for a few moments. In those moments, there is nothing. There is no lights, no crowd, there is no piano. There is no lounge. There is only Kurt. It's then he realizes that this isn't a silly favor that Rachel asked him to do. This isn't some stupid one time thing. This is something he needs to do.

He opens his eyes and the blinding light is gone. Taking a deep breath, he opens his mouth and a beautiful melody pours out.


End file.
